


Abeyance

by Enolu



Series: Stay like this; stay with me [7]
Category: Gundam SEED, Gundam SEED Destiny
Genre: Broken Promises, Cheating, Childhood Memories, Complicated Relationships, Denial of Feelings, Domestic Bliss, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Infidelity, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Intimacy, Jealousy, Kissing, Lies, Love, Nipple Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Parent-Child Relationship, Politics, Post-War, Power Dynamics, Propositions, Secret Relationship, Self-Denial, Slice of Life, Their Love Is So, Twisted reasoning, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 10:46:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24469699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enolu/pseuds/Enolu
Summary: It really isn't too difficult when it's been nearly six months since he received any coded message, designed to delete without leaving any trace.
Relationships: Cagalli Yula Athha/Athrun Zala, Lacus Clyne/Kira Yamato
Series: Stay like this; stay with me [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735528
Comments: 16
Kudos: 12





	Abeyance

Surreal is that whale's skeleton with wings in Aprilius One, or Kisaka's holograph videos of his plantain plot in Tassil. Surreal is meteors hurtling outside her private shuttle's windows, baked fish and tea served on a four by ten tray, but surreal also is sitting in this garden with Lacus, feeling the coarse cotton of a chintz picnic blanket under her skin, watching her twin play with his four-year-old and Athrun.

Of course, Cagalli had opted out and volunteered to keep an eye on Silvia in an effort to avoid proximity with the other guest. She should have guessed that playing a game of blind crawl wouldn’t entice Lacus, but anyway the garden's crowded enough with the current number of players.

At first, Kira's quite frozen, listening intently for any movement. When he picks a direction and begins crawling forward on his knees, Athrun starts moving around slowly, serving as the decoy to create distracting sounds, and Kira strains to listen, but continues in his main direction. In his hiding spot, Leon tries not to giggle.

"Kira's pretty good," Cagalli mutters, quite impressed. "Maybe he can tell it's Athrun moving, and not Leon?"

"It's probably just a wild guess. He might end up catching Athrun instead and losing the game though.” Lacus whispers back.

There had been something about Kira even then – something magnetic about the boy with violet eyes when he'd pushed her into the safety shelter; when he struck her cheek or made those kinds of terrible decisions. Maybe Cagalli had recognised something of herself in Kira.

If she hadn't been so obtuse, Cagalli might even have gathered something from the frequent clashes she had with her father to guess of Kira's existence. Uzumi had often remarked that he could only guess where her temper and spirited ways came from, but she never gave it much thought. It hadn't even occurred to her that he might have been talking about her sibling when she overheard him requesting Kisaka to keep a closer eye on her.

"I chose the girl thinking it would be an easier task than dealing with a boy." Uzumi had lamented to Kisaka. Her father had always thought her a bit too adventurous and tenacious for her own good. "At least she's aptly named."

A girl named for the bonfire. A boy named after the shining of light.

But it had never occurred to her that one day in Heliopolis, because it was just a chance encounter with a boy. She had been too distracted and upset after confirming what lay in Heliopolis. Even after Kisaka had grudgingly brought her along to the town he’d been born in, and she somehow was reunited with the boy from Heliopolis, she still failed to suspect the extent of what they shared. It had taken as much as that terrible battle that the Orb forces were unable to withstand for her to gain a brother, but lose her father.

As Kira continues to flatten the ground with his crawling, Lacus sighs about the grass stains that her husband will incur on his light blue jeans.

"It doesn't always wash off, you know." Lacus says mournfully, but Cagalli chuckles. It actually reminds her of her own transgressions – the way that she'd played as a child, never caring about ruining her clothing.

Inevitably, with her tomboyish ways and irreverence towards royal protocol, Cagalli had often been on the receiving end of her father's royal frown and that air of disapproval with his pursed lips. Notwithstanding the admittedly impressive beard of his, her father's faintly disapproving expression had usually been quite visible. He had always appeared so formidable anywhere he went, in the parliament house, in the emirs' office, or even when he was swimming in the lake behind his own house, in trunks and with an embarrassing snorkelling mask. Her Uncle Homura could never.

It hadn't been unusual for her father to lecture her about her being too impulsive or behaving in what he generally called 'an unbecoming manner'. But what was she supposed to become? A version of him? She loved him and he'd indisputably loved and cared for her, but he never hid the fact or made excuses for their lack of blood relations. In a way, it was easier for her to try and make sense of how different their personalities were, because they weren't actually related.

But it didn't matter to Cagalli that she mostly played or grew by herself, or that there were no other children of her age in the Orb estate grounds to back up her version of events whenever she got into scrapes. All too often she'd argued back with any adult, and her father used to say that somebody out there would probably understand her stubbornness and agree completely with her, maybe even appreciate what he termed her unfortunate inability to keep still.

In the past, she'd decided it was Uzumi's way of conceding without explicitly agreeing with her. But looking at Kira and his dogged ways, his drive to help others and his tendency to mull too much about things, Cagalli wonders if her father had always been alluding to her twin.

Leon skitters across a grass patch, slipping behind the tree, and Kira hears him.

"Help me catch him," Kira calls to the adults. Leon's already huge blue eyes widen and he frantically shakes his head at Lacus and Cagalli, begging wordlessly. Such a sweet child, she thinks, and she has to remind herself to shake away the beginnings of envy.

In the meantime, Athrun makes rustling sounds, perhaps a bit too hastily. It's too obvious it isn't Leon, Cagalli thinks, but she doesn't engage and watches Athrun tread about.

"Catch him yourself." Lacus insists to Kira. Her hand is still in the cradle, next to her baby's much smaller one. "You're doing so well, and we're a little tied up here."

It's true that safeguarding the food from any errant birds is a task on its own. Some jays and sparrows hop near the azalea bushes, but with Cagalli and Lacus sitting near the snacks, they don't get too close. The first animals in the Plants’ ecosystems were brought in from the Earth territories, and Cagalli wonders how the original planners had decided that those aggressive, chattering jays were worth the trouble.

Overhead, Torii continues to circle and the winds around them swirl and shuffle leaves in an orange-green mosaic. It might have been nice to stay longer, perhaps even for another night, but Cagalli was careful to find out about Athrun's stay and arrange her returning shuttle for minimal overlap in schedules. They haven't met in a month, but they'd acted friendly enough when he arrived at Kira's place.

"Come on, Athrun, stop trying to make me lose my way. Why don't you help me find Leon?"

Leon's almost goaded into protesting against his father's request, but Athrun shakes his head, holding up a finger to remind Leon to stay quiet.

Lacus tsks from where she sits. "You shouldn't try to beat the game by convincing Athrun to switch sides, you know. It's not quite fair, is it?"

Her son gratefully nods in their direction, and Lacus winks. Then the baby waves her little mittened hands, and Cagalli offers her finger. Silvia's grip is surprisingly firm, surprising Cagalli and making Lacus chuckle. Seeing the baby’s smile was well worth Kira’s and Lacus’ suffering, Cagalli thinks. She had known before from Lacus’ tearful confession that they weren’t quite genetically compatible, but now Leon and Silvia are in this new world.

With her free hand, she runs arched fingers through the grass, feeling the tickle and lushness of the gathered blades in her hand's webbing. Even though it's pointless, she envies Leon and baby Silvia and thinks that it might have been nice growing up with a sibling. They’ll probably play and fight, but they’ll have each other for it.

In those years, she'd despaired about the many divergences that she couldn't seem to reconcile with her father's - from anything concerning the proper way to slice toast, to how she felt about the Seirans or what minimum wage policies ought to entail. They used to argue so much about those things and their differences, and poor Homura or her father's staff had always been dragged into it. Maybe a sibling would have made it better.

Not that it was really Uzumi's fault, of course. He had been as good, if not better than a flesh-and-blood father – whether he was teaching her about the value of life and peace, or when they attempted baking animal cookies to disastrous results and when he taught her how to ride a bicycle in the manor's woods. It was just that he was never not the lead emir of Orb and the head of a noble family. The constant, sometimes thankless job of handling state affairs simply meant that their family life was very different from what Cagalli observed of others.

She looks at Athrun, who's signalling quietly to Leon. Her nephew nods eagerly, hanging on to every direction. The affection between the boy and his godfather is so clear, and they communicate well even without words.

Without her having spent much time with him, Leon is already growing up so quickly and speaking in complete sentences. It makes her admire and despair at the acceleration of a Coordinator's design. Maybe it's why Leon hadn't been so keen on letting her call him her little lion earlier today. He’s already grown a little taller, and completely outgrown the nicknames.

But he'll still play like this, at least for a while. Watching his father from where he's pressed against the wood bark, Leon stifles a snicker and signals back to his godfather. They exchange huge grins.

Maybe Kira notices the unusual silence, because he starts moving again, crawling forward and patting down everything. He's clearly grown between the first time she met him and the years that followed, but Cagalli looks at him and thinks that he still seems like a kid when he's by himself. A kid, having kids. Maybe that's what it takes.

"Look at him." Cagalli whispers to Lacus. "He's getting so close."

"Took him long enough." Lacus whispers back.

But when Athrun signals to Leon, Leon lobs a pebble in the direction adjacent to Kira. Kira follows the sound with his head, his mouth falling open because he's concentrating so deeply. Kira cocks his head, quite taken in.

Poking his head out from behind the tree, Leon shoots Cagalli a conspiratorial, evil little grin. Athrun looks at her too, and he conceals his laugh with his hand.

Lacus giggles, but then quickly stills and starts making cooing sounds. Silvia's started fussing and struggling against the cloth swathed around her tiny body. It makes the cradle rock a little more, and Lacus stills it with a steady hand. Her eyes move lovingly from the baby's face to her husband's, and then Lacus laughs.

Kira’s started wandering in the direction of the stone's sound, somehow even more gullible when he's with his child and friend. The force of her feelings and that inexplicable, familiar love had surprised her back then. Maybe she should have connected the dots even before that crumpled photograph of that smiling woman and her twin babies had been placed in Cagalli's hand.

Cagalli gives Leon and Athrun a thumbs-up, but maybe she would have fallen for the trick as well. There are some similarities between her and Kira that she's had no choice but to notice over the years, and she momentarily pities Kira as he bumps his head against another tree and says "oww". That might have very well been her.

"Are you behind the almond tree, Leon?" Kira calls, as if Leon would fall for answering the question. Athrun starts walking – perhaps a bit too conspicuously and quickly, Cagalli thinks - in a completely opposite direction, trying to mislead Kira once again. Kira shouldn't be fooled by it; Athrun's footsteps are far heavier than what Leon's would have been. But somehow, the ruse still seems to work.

Kira inches forward, groping about at the air and dropping his makeshift walking cane. He looks so goofy. He pauses, like he’s confused, but then he suddenly makes a turn and starts crawling back in the direction that he came from, towards Leon's tree. He moves so quickly even on his fours, and Leon has no time to sneak off from his corner under the tree.

Peeking out, Leon holds a small finger to his lips, trying to shush everyone else, glaring at his mother, who doesn't bother holding back her laughter anymore.

In no time at all, Kira touches the roots of the tree, feeling his way up the bark. Behind, Leon squirms, making a last-ditch attempt to avoid being touched, trapped in his unfortunately-chosen spot. But Kira catches his son's sleeve, and a grin breaks onto his face.

"Alright, I've caught you!"

"No! No! I’m Athrun, I’m Athrun!"

But Kira whips off the blindfold with his free hand, and spots his best friend and son quite immediately. "I knew it!"

Then Leon springs out, barrelling into his father's arms, screeching about how Lacus had given him away. Father and son tumble on the grass together, rolling about like puppies all over the garden, scrambling and tickling each other.

Had Cagalli ever done that with her parent? She thinks back, but she can't recall anything like this. Uzumi had played a mean game of holochess, but he wasn’t one for playing these kinds of games.

That one time he’d searched for her in the forest of the Atha grounds was only because her tutor told Uzumi that she ran off there. She'd been much, much younger when he found her under some shrubs, bawling her eyes out. She’d heard some of his staff talking about her. She was the urchin with the yellow-orange cat eyes, who had no mother and no father.

At that time, her father had looked so torn up that it made her feel worse that he saw her crying. She'd flung her herself into his arms, and he spoiled her that day, letting her sit in his study and play with his official seal stamp until she became too enthusiastic about stamping every document and he had to take it away.

It couldn't be helped that their circumstances led her to wonder about it so much when was she growing up – the idea of her father, the mysterious people who had brought her into existence, and what a more normal family would have been.

When Leon launches into an embrace of his godfather, Athrun obliges so immediately that Cagalli concludes he indulges Leon too much. Leon only needs to ask for Athrun to swing Leon around, over and over again. They go round and round, Leon squealing his delight, until they collapse in a messy heap by the azaleas – the birds have flown off, having abandoned their hopes of getting any crumbs.

With all the noise, Silvia promptly starts bawling, which makes Kira and Leon hurry over to the cradle. Athrun sits up, but with the little crowd around Silvia, he wisely stays by the bushes.

Cagalli understands instinctively that like her, Athrun’s avoiding a certain physical proximity. They always make sure not to speak too much to each other or touch at all, when they're in front of others. She wonders if they've done it so perfectly that it's unnatural, the way that he'd tried to mislead Kira minutes ago.

Still, nobody quite notices Athrun sitting apart when Kira's completely occupied with comforting his daughter. He rocks her anxiously and speaks to her like he understands every sound that she makes, somehow more worried than Lacus.

Then Silvia's quietened, as if all the commotion in the world can't disturb her, and Leon touches his sister's cheek with his tiny finger, joy in his round face.

There's family the way that her father had been to her, and there's family like Kira. She's long accepted the terms and parameters of her family; related by blood or otherwise.

But when Cagalli turns to pick up the baby's blanket, she sees Athrun. The glimpse of the strange, unspeakable longing as he watches his friends and their children makes Cagalli forget to look away.

In another life, her father might have lived a little longer to see Cagalli succeed and enjoy his hard-earned retirement, perhaps even bounce a child on his lap and tell stories to.

But in this life and at this very moment, Athrun's just sitting there on his haunches, holding himself back to watch his days and years go by. The reminder of it makes her want to laugh and cry.

X

To get his colleagues off his back, but mainly because he's running out of viable excuses about why he doesn't really appear to have a social life, Athrun agreed to go for dinner and drinks.

"Took you long enough to agree!" Tarek had exclaimed. He had immediately fished out his phone from the locker, texting his new girlfriend to confirm timings. He had practically hopped on the spot. "We need to make this double date happen already. Drinks after at the Yellow Arrow dart pub, okay?"

"I'm not fuss about anywhere."

"It's easier pulling teeth at the dentist's than getting Athrun to hang out for these things," Thierry had joked. "This fellow's not on any social media, so I expect verbatim notes from you, Tarek."

"Thanks for inviting me." Athrun had told Tarek.

"Yeah, no problem, I only asked because I'm sure Yohei isn't her type. Also, I feel like you'll be a bit weird, so it'll make me look good in front of my lady. Just don't clean up too much, okay? I don't want Renee dropping me when she sees you."

Tarek's ex-dormitory mate has an easy laugh and round, rosy cheeks. Elea Carou is working in Orb on a year-long secondment that her pharmaceutical employer's sent her on, so Tarek's been helping her settle in and get to know people.

Elea says that she likes Orb so far, but it's nothing like Coppernicus, where her family, dogs and cats are. She's looking forward to swimming with manta rays though. She wears a flattering lavender blouse and is quite pretty.

When Athrun thinks about it later, it did seem a bit rude to be so withdrawn. But Elea doesn't seem to mind his quietness, chattering on with Tarek and his new girlfriend over the three courses. She seems bubbly and she's patient with the restaurant staff when the orders are mixed up. Even though her work with anticoagulant drugs and blood must be really interesting, she doesn't ramble or hog the conversation. She's prone to thinking aloud, strikes up a rapport with Renee, and proves surprisingly good at dart games.

Tarek seems to be impressed by how she scores a double bull's-eye, clapping her on the back and commenting loudly, even though Elea points out that they've always been playing dart games since their university days.

"Yeah, but wow! I mean, are you seeing this, Athrun?"

When Tarek and Renee have wandered off to check out the song selections, Elea apologises about Tarek dragging Athrun along for a dinner.

"Apparently, Renee wasn't so pleased about Tarek meeting me alone."

She seems pleasant and sincere, and Athrun says it was no trouble at all.

Maybe Elea has a good impression of him. Athrun gathers as much, especially after Thierry's back from his mission and Tarek provides the full recap in the canteen in Athrun's and Yohei's earshot. Like Athrun had even asked to hear what Elea thought of the date.

"She told me she thinks you're sweet. And dishy – a sharp dresser sort, ha!" Tarek waggles his eyebrows. "So I told her you're a star pilot, second only to myself."

It's fortunate that the other teams aren't around, because the mundane evening suddenly seems embarrassing when recounted like this. Thierry seems completely enthralled with the details of the double date, but of course he would be.

"Why don't you want to ask her out again? It's not like you're seeing anyone," Thierry demands. He peers like Athrun's a specimen on a glass tile. "Literally, you've been here for six years, and none of us have ever heard a peep about a significant other.

"I was seeing someone," Athrun tells them, if only to avoid explaining what's stopping him from asking Elea out, and mostly to stop them asking all those questions.

"Okay, but you're not anymore right?" Tarek says impatiently, at the same time that Thierry blurts, "What happened? How come we haven't seen a photograph of anyone before?"

His colleagues are unfortunately at the stage of their friendship where they feel entitled to ask and he feels compelled to engage. "It just didn't work out. I'm quite fine being like this. I mean, it was a nice evening. Thanks Tarek. I have a report to finish."

Then Syra hears about it and eggs him on. She even takes a pause from texting her partner about her picky-eater children and the sheets of homework that were somehow flushed down the toilet. She sits down with him during their lunch break, and attempts to provide him some relevant but unsolicited advice.

"I mean, I'd rather give birth through my butt than have to go through all that blind dating _et cetera_ all over again, but that really shouldn't hold you back. I hear from Tarek that this one's a real catch?"

"That's what he said, yes." This egg sandwich is really not tasty. He should have prepared his own food when he had time yesterday. But he'd been too engrossed reading this book about reimagining urban spaces.

"She's very easy on the eyes too, I have to say."

He makes a non-committal sound, continuing to eat his lunch, privately wondering why Syra's taken a leaf from Thierry's book. Maybe she's thinking about that incident again, even though she isn't supposed to be privy to what's said during the therapy sessions. The thought makes him uncomfortable, so he continues to chew and act like he's listening to her go on about Elea.

At some point, Syra looks at him sympathetically, then claps him on the back. She's probably at the stage of the friendship where she feels entitled to touch him. To be fair, he doesn't really mind.

"Anyway, it's nice to find someone special, you know?"

He knows.

X

When she enters test hangar twenty-eight surrounded by the usual stream of people, something in him recognises that it's her. He knows it even before one of the aides announces the arrival.

Like the others, he turns away from his station, leaves aside his reports, and salutes with the others. Maybe it's a compass built in every military person through the hierachy, one's internal needle trained to point towards power and authority. And yet for him, it's something more when it's her.

There's no way that Athrun would have caught the orange blossom and spicy wood perfume that he noticed she was wearing more frequently. That semi-husky, warm voice of hers would have been lost in all the hubris, and he’d only seen part of the entrance. But there's that peculiar sensing of her presence, his subconscious recognition of Cagalli. He would have known it was her.

There's a hangar of thirty or more people stopping everything suddenly to stand still at attention, the space going deathly devoid of people's voices, all in the name of protocol.

Had he been in a unit, the operations panel and his main handler would have given him a heads-up about the arrival. But he's not piloting or instructing just right now, so it's not as if he can find a reason to do some extra laps in the flight zone and thus avoid the guests at his workplace.

"At ease." Rondo Mina Sahaku says. With her height and gravitas accentuated by her dark, military clothing, she diminishes most. It's quite impressive actually.

And with the Sahaku emir's single command, the hangar fills with movement again. People turn back to whatever they'd been doing before the visitors arrived, bustling about. If anything, they seem even busier. Suddenly, the two pilots from team three who were hanging near the entrance have made themselves and their coffees scarce. It's to be expected.

Cagalli scans over everything quickly, like she's surveying them. But it's also as if she's searching for something.

She's traded her emir suit for a simple, sleeveless dress in a terra cotta shade, so he gathers that she probably came from her office. Her plans must have changed, he thinks, because she'd mentioned at Kira's that she wouldn't be back in Orb until next week. She hadn't indicated when they could see each other again.

Their eyes meet but she looks somewhere else so quickly, it almost convinces him that she never saw him.

It might have been a split-second, or a lifetime. The lack of emotion in her mouth and hands doesn't betray anything. But then she's actually really good at this. She knows how to mix the truth with the lies, so that most people can't tell when it starts and when it ends.

He tries to continue keying in the report that he'd been dealing with. He considers moving off, but with Thierry standing next to him and working on his own report, it might look abrupt or strange. Standing there at his station and keeping his eyes fixed on the keyboard and screen is better.

He realises that he's missed a field, and the results that reflect on the bottom-line don't square.

Having been alerted by somebody, Senior Admiral Hasegawa quickly hurries up, past them. No doubt, the surprise visit by the two emirs had forced him out of his office and interrupted his schedule, but there's nothing for it when he heads this division of the Orb military.

"Your Graces." Hasegawa bumbles. "How may I assist today? I don't believe Minister Yara is here this afternoon?"

"You see," Rondo Mina Sahaku says. Her voice is so strident, it carries over the general humdrum. "I'm scheduled to return to Ame No Mihashira. It occurred to me that I might be able to see the latest application of the foam metal frames here. The Astray units are due for an upgrade, and I'm considering if we should adopt that development. Would a demonstration be too much trouble?"

"Not in the least. I'll arrange that, of course, Lady Sahaku. And is Your Grace interested to inspect anything in particular?"

"Not really." Cagalli says. She sounds so cool, she might have passed off as a teenager at her parent's corporate family day. It doesn't even matter that she currently seems out of place in an area filled with uniformed personnel - she could ask for nearly anything, and it would more or less be done. 

Years ago, he’d seen more than enough from the senior military personnel to confirm their trust in Cagalli - maybe part of it had been because of Kisaka and Todaka, but today, despite Cagalli’s distancing of herself from the military, the sentiment remains. 

She takes a few steps away, letting Hasegawa hurry after her. "Don't let me bother or interrupt your work, Admiral. It's just that Lady Sahaku thought it would be worthwhile for me to see the latest manoeuvres with the foam metal applications too."

"Of course, Your Grace. It's always a privilege to have you attend at Onogoro. We're well aware of how difficult both your schedules must be."

"Apologies, I simply couldn't send advance notice." Mina Sahaku drawls. Nothing about the smirk in her voice suggests she's sorry, Athrun thinks.

"Your Grace and Lady Sahaku are always welcome to observe our work."

"Not bad," Thierry mutters from the side of his mouth. "Hasegawa doesn't sound half as annoyed as he probably feels. Bloody brown-noser."

Athrun casts him a small smile.

As they move past, disappearing around the corridor, Athrun tries to keep his eyes focused on his screens. Her hair's been trimmed and it's much shorter than when he last saw her. He might miss how he'd felt it brush against him, but it frames her chin and he thinks about the yoke of her collarbones.

He's suddenly aware of the dirt under his nails, short as they're kept. Maybe it was from the jet grease stains in the last unit, or the sweat in his flight gloves. He's due for a refitting next week.

Once Hasegawa, the nobles and their retinue out of earshot, Thierry turns to him and says at a normal volume, "She looks so different, gosh. The Orb princess, I mean. Was she always so young and cute?"

"I didn't really notice." Athrun locates and resolves the bit that he'd erroneously keyed in and starts working on another field.

Then Syra sidles up, nursing her energy drink. "You know, I just saw the Orb princess and the Sahaku emir. Down the hallway travellator to testing ground seven, I think. If you know what's good for you, you better avoid that testing ground until they're gone."

"You don't have to tell me." Thierry says, faking a shudder.

"I'm guessing it's a surprise visit after Admiral Hasegawa screwed up the last presentation?"

"Yep, you missed their grand entrance five minutes ago, lucky you." Thierry tells her. He pulls a face. "The Sahaku emir gives me some kind of vibe, man. Scary. Every time she comes here, Hasegawa has to scuttle out of his den and find unit or some pilot to impress her. I almost feel bad for him."

"It'll do him some good to stop lording it over us, honestly. Rondo Mina Sahaku can put the fear of Haumea into him for all I care." Her drink is dripping water on the ground, next to Athrun's shoe. "She's a noble and a damn good pilot, and he's just another asshole these days. I do love seeing her put him in his place. Hm. Those trajectories are looking good, Athrun."

She takes a long swig of her drink, then crumples the can and lobs it into the trash can at the side. She's taken to staring at their reports, and Athrun's glad that he fixed the error before she dropped in. Syra's eyes are rather sharp.

Thierry leans on his elbows, working away and blowing a raspberry. "But you know, if I walked past Cagalli Yula Atha on some street, it probably wouldn't click. Civilian clothes make her look so ordinary."

"Yeah, context." Syra shrugs. "Also, we keep hanging out with people in uniforms. It makes the civilians look like they're a big, messy field. Too many colours, it confuses me. They're clearly not civilians though, those two. You can smell the authority from afar."

"Yes, yes. I mean, when the Orb princess presents as civilian like that. Man, she looks like some ordinary chick that I'd try to talk to on Friday night. Right, Athrun?"

Athrun says, "You shouldn't try, Thierry."

X

The physicality of his touch takes her aback – it's supposed to be an arena that she controls, and this isn't something that Cagalli's prepared for. It's nothing like the formality of a handshake where two momentarily size up each other, and nothing of this belongs to any recognisable protocol.

Still, she doesn't pull away when Etienne takes and holds her hand in his. It would be worse if she did.

She keeps herself expressionless as she moves down the stairs with him, the shutters and lights going off behind the cordoned area. Maybe he feels how sweaty her palm is, and maybe he can tell how discouraged she was speaking earlier. His hand is large enough to nearly cover hers, warm over her much smaller, clenched hand.

The reporters had leapt the minute that Etienne stepped out from the rows of seated Orb royals and walked to her side, right after she stood to take her leave from the broadcast. She hadn't quite seen it coming.

They waste no time snapping images of Etienne holding her hand. Of course they wouldn't hesitate, when presented material in such a public space.

Maybe it's for the best. Any images of her like this with Etienne by her side should clarify sufficiently. She looks ahead at everyone, no one.

The other Orb nobles waiting for her to take her leave mumble amongst themselves. Some are smiling indulgently, but others - the more decorous ones - frown.

Etienne's grand-uncle looks quite sour, leaning heavily on his cane. Roland Rutherford looks slightly embarrassed, but she can't tell if it's for himself, his grand-uncle, or for his younger brother. She can't be bothered to guess either.

Mina is smirking, watching them like it's her evening primetime programme. Her eyes say everything. _I told you so._

Everybody has an opinion. Of course.

At the entrance of the parliament grounds, Cagalli brings her hand away and nods at her guards, who are waiting with the car. The hot afternoon sun skims off their semi-dark glasses, and she feels a wave of pity for them. They spend their lives watching and waiting. One minute, one hour, day after day. How could she have convinced herself that it would be fine, just because he'd once suggested that it was the easiest way that he could be with her? She’d convinced him to live, maybe saved his life in a way or touched him by caring for him, but that didn’t mean he should squander it on her. 

As soon as they're seated, she makes quick work of the safety-protocols and shuts off the inter-car communication systems. Her guards have barely even bowed and shut the door, but they're already unable to hear anything being said in the vehicle.

The automaton pilot is quite still, having ascertained her guest's identity and the lack of threat. But when it senses her overriding the linked sound channels, it says, "Please confirm that the inter-vehicle communication systems shall be overridden."

"Yes. I confirm it." She ensures that her voice remains firm but calm, so that the automaton won't detect stress or anxiety and send for the first-line of help. The car starts rolling forward, and she releases a breath that she had been holding.

Her aides and the security members in the separate cars behind and in front of hers will probably ascertain her displeasure from the very fact that she's turned off those systems, but she won't wait until they get to the manor.

"Did you have to do that?"

"It's nothing extraordinary for me to be seen with you." Etienne says, quite matter-of-factly. "Even if it's been some time since we were seen together."

"During a parliament session, like that?"

Something in her voice makes the automaton pilot swivel to stare at her, scanning them both. She nods at it to signal again that there's no threat, and it turns back, in mechanical imitation of being assured.

"It was only at the end." Etienne shifts and shrugs off his blazer. "Nobody should be surprised that we're back together, it's been going on for years."

He's right. While reading off a gossipy titbit in a column and ignoring Cagalli's insistence that she wasn't pining for Etienne, Mina had told her that she gave the cooling-off no more than a year.

"You've both been doing your little song-and-dance for so long now." Mina had remarked. "You told me that he broke up with you because you didn't seem to really care for him; but before that, you broke up with him because he wasn't around in Orb much, so on, so forth. You both saw different people in between, and still, you were back together last year. Why should this latest so-called cooling-off be any different this time?"

The recollection of that conversation makes Cagalli tighten her fists. There's nobody but Etienne to take it out on, and so she does.

"Did you want to give people something else to talk about? With those gossip tabloids that your family's companies run? Is that what it is?"

He brushes off her accusations like lint. "You know very well that I don't actively manage or get involved in any of those businesses these days. And that's not even the core part of my family's media enterprise. Gossip columnists will write whatever they want, within reason."

"So you gave them a reason to write some trashy articles?"

"I don't control them. If anything, the publications in Orb don't write about you and your private life in a malicious way, because they know that it will affect me too."

It's true and they both know it, even if he doesn't know the half of it.

She had learned very quickly that the media, at least in the Orb territories, would be careful not to pry into her personal life when they believed that Etienne Rutherford would be implicated too. His family's connection to the key media players had always provided a surprising if not twisted shield of her own private matters. It was one of the perks of seeing Etienne, and she'd been quick to seize upon it.

"I wasn't trying to vex you." Etienne says. "Why would I?"

But she's still irate. "I don't need you creating a spectacle in the parliament hall like that. You didn't have to do that."

"I just didn't like seeing you have to take the brunt of the questions for the emirs' majority decision, that's all."

"It's my duty to." Cagalli tells him stiffly. "Your holding my hand makes me look like I'm some kind of silly, impressionable child. It doesn't make it easier for me."

Etienne scoffs as the car picks up speed and they enter a tunnel. The orange lights dart off his dark copper hair and his hand when he adjusts and unbuttons his collar. He breathes deeply, and she can tell he's trying to hold his own growing temper. It gives her a little stab of inexplicable delight at having angered him as much.

"For Haumea's sake, Cagalli, I only held your hand."

His raised voice makes the automaton swivel to scan them once again.

Impatiently, she signals that there's no threat, and Etienne tells her, "Whether we like it or not, we'll always be seen by the public. The five noble houses - well, four now - have always been interlinked. People seem happy that we're seeing each other."

"I'm perfectly aware. I did almost marry a Seiran."

"But you didn't." Somehow, there's suddenly approval, lining and softening those strong, hard features. As if she'd ever asked for it.

The thought of him even trying to approve of her makes her feel quite savage, and she hits her fist against the leather of the seat. "I didn't, only because I was abducted from my own wedding, and I had the opportunity to snap out of it."

"That's exactly it. Everybody knows that the other noble houses are in favour of the immigration restrictions, whereas you've openly opposed it. When you openly took the unpopular position, you knew that you would be outvoted by the majority of other emirs, didn't you? Did our seeing each other stop you from taking that view? Didn't you spend the better half of this morning trying to convince the other houses that they shouldn't support the immigration restrictions? I don't understand why you're behaving like this, Cagalli."

His hand grips a fistful of air in frustration, emotion openly rippling on his face. "Everybody knows that you have your own mind, whether or not I stand next to you in public."

"Do they though?"

Etienne doesn't even falter. "Of course."

"You don't know that." It's easy for him; he doesn't have to prove himself every time, all the time.

"Let me ask you: has anyone ever questioned you about how our relationship has been going on and off over the years?"

"I don't entertain those questions about my private life."

"Exactly. You don't have to. Doesn't that prove as much as you need? Nobody would question you on that basis, these days. Your work is all that matters. Nobody can deny what you've done for Orb. One simple display of my affection – our relationship, which everyone is aware about – won't diminish anything."

"It doesn't mean that people won't question me if I let them forget themselves. It wasn't so long ago that some of the papers were suggesting that I should step away from the council of emirs; that I should take the annual stipend for Orb nobles and run with it, instead of being an emir."

"That was in your first two years. It's been what, five, six years now? And so what if they start saying that again, now that we're back together? Fuck them."

It's so easy for him to take that view. Someone like him wouldn't be afraid, because he grew up a real Orb noble, she thinks bitterly, with his family sitting on the boards of a media conglomerate. His grand-uncle, father and older brother have been Rutherford emirs long enough for Etienne to have dealt with public attention too, quite apart from Etienne's former career as an anchorman.

His publicly-obvious affection makes her fear something, even if it's not strictly Etienne's fault. Not so long ago, those similar displays had involved her waving at well-wishers through a wedding car's window, even if she had convinced Yuna to wait to share her bed. She pushes the memory and the queasiness away. To explain that to him and to admit it aloud would be more than she could manage.

"I just don't like it when you do that." Cagalli says finally. She fiddles with her sleeve. "It's not a social event; it's not as if we're alone. I don't expect you to understand. I'm just telling you that I don't want you to do it."

"Alright then. I apologise." His tone becomes gentler, and he does sound repentant. "I acted on a whim, because I wanted to be there with you. I should have thought more of how you would feel, but I didn't think about it enough. You've said what you said, and I won't do it again. Not in front of the media."

She looks at him, and his sincerity makes her nod.

It's simple for him, she thinks again. He always speaks openly, freely. He understands the media and doesn't mind public attention.

With his keen mind, those articulate ways, and that finely-tousled hair and jaw, he'd made a fine anchorman. She noticed that raw, animal energy that practically radiated from his deep blue eyes and through the screen, and he never seemed hesitant about asking or getting what he wanted, anywhere or at any time. It's still there, even now.

Before, she'd wondered if he joined the emirs' council because he craved more exposure and power. But it was unfair to doubt the way she had – she'd learned over time that Etienne did have the public interest at heart. Like her, he did treasure his own privacy, even if he somehow believed that the best way to stave off the media was to throw them scraps from time to time.

They sit in silence for the remainder of the ride, and the car glides on in the tunnel, following the flow of traffic. From the outside, the windows are dark, but she can see the other vehicles and some of their drivers from inside here. They drive on, in their little bubbles.

"Thank you." Cagalli says finally, as they near the manor. "For trying to understand me."

He takes her hand, lifting it to his lips in a variation of the usual formality. He doesn't let her take her hand back, holding it in his, on his lap.

"I want this to work." His voice is so intent, she feels dread pool in her stomach. "We've done this long enough, and I know you have your damage from your time with the Seirans, Cagalli. But I'm not like them. Don't be wary of me; don't push me away anymore."

"I'm not doing that." Her protests spring to her lips, as automatic as her thoughts. "We agreed to break off the last time because of your grand-uncle. He barely tolerates me, Etienne. Our political views are so, so far apart, and it's hard for us not to take it personally."

"But it's not just that, Cagalli. You keep pushing me away."

"I'm not pushing you away. I agreed to see you again, didn't I?"

He frowns. "Yes, and I'm glad. We both needed some time off last year, and I was worried that you wouldn't want to be with me after. But I don't want to go through that anymore, or ever again."

"Well, you're here." Cagalli pulls at her hand hard enough for him to let go. "I'm here."

"Even if it was my grand-uncle driving a wedge between us… How do I explain it? Each time I try to get closer, you suddenly retreat. It was like that before, and it's still like that now. There's a wall about you." He seizes a breath, and the air around him seems to pulse with his energy. "When will you believe that I don't love you just because of what you represent?"

"I do believe you." she says. She looks at him, anxious, and desperately touches his shoulder.

His eyes begin to search hers, and she swiftly turns her face into his chest. His hand finds her shoulder, curling her into him, accepting her touch. He's that kind of man, she thinks. The sort that will be mollified with tactile assurances and physical closeness.

When he speaks, his voice is calmer. "Let's start anew then. It'll be different from now on, Cagalli. Roland's prepared for me to lead the Rutherford house too. I wanted to tell you."

"What? When?" Her throat is dry. She doesn't dare to look up at him.

"From next month. We're planning to announce it next week. Grand-uncle says it's time he retired for good, and Roland doesn't want to do this forever. He's tired of trying to fill grand-uncle's shoes, and he says he's fine just supporting me. And I'm ready to step up." Etienne's hand strokes her hair softly. "It will be for the best."

She should have seen this coming. He had been spending more and more time in the Rutherford emir's office last year, and she'd wondered why he wasn't dividing his time with his family's private businesses as much these days.

"I won't fly in and out of territories like I was doing before, or put the Rutherford businesses as my priority. By next year, I'll have divested my interests in the family's business for full-time public service. My priority is Orb's public interests now. We'll make it work, this time."

She doesn't know how to tell him that he's mistaken when he pulls her away to look at her. His eyes are trained on her face, waiting for her to show some indication, maybe give him the approval that he's expected.

"Do you really want this?" Her question comes out so feebly. He mistakes her quietness for something else, because he smiles.

"I want nothing more. I want to focus on Orb and you. I was too half-hearted before, about where I needed to be. Running from the office in town to parliament, and staying in the other territories so much… not seeing you for months at an end. I made those same mistakes with the marriage before, but you're different, Cagalli. I don't want to mess it up anymore, not when I might lose you for it. We make sense together, Cagalli. You know it."

He moves in to kiss her, and she lets him. She opens to him almost automatically, taking his face between her hands. His kisses are slow, languid, like he knows that she's caving. She kisses him back, teasing at his tongue, darting hers into his mouth. His hands are on her shoulders, their foreheads pressed together.

They're still in the tunnel, dim lights overhead and the car's windows blacked out. It's some way back to the Atha manor, and it's easier to keep doing this. It's easier to act like he owns her and that she wants to have him hold her hand. Like this, she won't have to answer, and Etienne won't be provoked or disrupt her thoughts. He won't have to learn of them either.

It will have to be soon, she thinks. She'll have to put a stop to the mess that she started, and find a way to ease past the complications of bringing things to an end. This time, it can't be temporary, with anyone tiptoeing around each other. It has to be a clean cut for a wound to heal quickly.

At least one always knows what one is dealing with when it's Etienne. When he wants something, he says it, and now he's saying that he wants her and he's in a position where he can serve Orb the way that she does. There's a simplicity in the way that he slings his arm around her in that one-armed hug, or when ruffles her hair when they're watching shows together. He's motivated in the same way that he works, or the way that he talks and loves, and he's so frighteningly sure of himself with his outspoken passion and openness with people. This is why people gravitate towards him.

When they reach the manor's gates and she has to flick on the lights to complete a retina scan, they break apart. It's a relief to her.

But Etienne turns back and catches her cheek in his hand when his scan is complete, and he holds her close again.

"Move in with me?" His baritone is husky, and she wonders if he'll only wait long enough to hold and fuck her against the door, the way that he had the last time.

"I have the Atha manor and the whole estate to haunt, you know." Cagalli tries to joke, but his earnestness doesn't change.

"Obviously, the penthouse has nothing on the Atha manor. But it could be good for us. It's nearer to the emirs' offices, and the Parliament grounds. We could be together more."

She finds her voice, and smiles at him. "I'm due to be in Switzerland for a month. The discussion on the economic cooperation agreements might take even longer in Davos, actually. Then I'll be in Neo-Shanghai for so much of the rest of the year, for the accords on the strategic military developments."

His hands are insistent. "It doesn't matter. Move in with me. When you're in Orb, we can be together."

"I'll consider it."

She takes care to sound like she will, and he grins at her. In a different life, she realises suddenly, she would have fallen in love with him a long time ago.

X

_I know you said before that you want this, but do you still? And even if you do, it's wrong. It's gone on for too long. The more we stay like this, the worse it gets. You're losing time, and I can't let it go on like this._

_I realise what needs to be done. I'm sorry that I allowed this to happen. We shouldn't meet or speak to each other, one on one like this, not anymore. It won't work when it's all or nothing._

_Let's not see each other like this again. It's tiring, the way we've been pretending, in front of my family, or our friends. No matter how careful we are, somebody might find out one day. We've been lucky for these four years, and maybe even before that, when you took some random name from a phone book and Kisaka and I managed to give you a new identity. But it doesn't mean it's okay._

_I hope that it won't be as difficult for you as it will be for me. I'll miss so much about you. You don't know it, but I'm so proud of you and the person that you are. You doubt yourself too much, but you're one of the strongest, best people I know._

_Remember how you told me that you once overheard your campmates say that you have the personality of low-fat crackers? They said you were relying on good looks, money and family prestige to get laid. You told me you stayed in the bathroom for half an hour until they were gone, because you were so embarrassed. Like I told you then, your campmates were full of bullshit. They were jealous, maybe. You're talented, hardworking, smart, and people like you. They really do. You laughed at me when I felt upset at what was supposed to be your funny story, but how could I not be? And I meant what I said then. You're one of the most wonderful people to me. And the bit about good looks is true. But that's not the point._

_It was my fault for asking you to do this. I was so selfish. I should say that I shouldn't have done it, but that's not really true._

_I wish I'd done this earlier. But then, I don't really wish that either. You're important to me, and I can see that I've done you more harm. To be truthful, I already knew that I would be putting my interests over yours. But I wasn't expecting this to go on for as long as it has. It's easy to forget the time and myself when you're with me – I'm not finding some excuse, it's really the truth. I've enjoyed all the time we've had._

_It's for the best. We won't have to keep lying. You won't have all these disruptions. You've worked too hard to settle for this arrangement with me._

_I should thank you for trying. Thank you for keeping well, and being safe in Orb. Thank you for coming to find me, when I wanted you. Thank you for letting me hang out with you, in your home. For letting me read your books and overwater your plants. I'm sorry I killed your cactus, but it was a piece of shit. Anyway._

_Thank you for everything. In these four years, I've learned so much about you and myself, in a way that we never had the chance to when the wars took up so much of who we could be._

_Thank you for all the meals you made for me. Thank you for all the good memories. Thank you for accommodating me, so much, so many times. Thank you for letting me be so comfortable around you. Thank you for keeping me company and finding us those little spaces to enjoy ourselves in._

_Thank you for the time when you told me that you would protect me. Nobody has ever said that to me, at least, not like that. Maybe we were too young to be making those promises then, but maybe when we make those promises to other people now, we can keep those. I was supposed to protect you, and I really did want to, but here we are, all those years later, even after the wars._

_Please take care. I hope that we'll be in a better place after this._

It takes her much longer than she expected to put down what she wants to say. Every explanation feels like it's too short, or too long. Every attempt at an apology or justification tangles into an inchoate string. She almost tears the paper that she had jotted down her thoughts on.

Still, she keeps whatever that's come to mind and flowed from her pen anyway, the way she's inclined to draft. When she edits, she does the way that she was trained to, striking out the portions that feel too personal for her to utter and the statements that are implied or clear admissions. She omits more than she includes, and she's left with little to nothing.

Finally, it reads strangely like something that she'd written once. The situation and the writing is different in so many ways, but the conclusion is the same.

When it feels curt enough after all the editing, she rehearses it. She does it diligently, systematically, the way she's become accustomed to, like it's another diplomatic address that she'll deliver.

If she didn't do it first, she rationalises, he would. Sooner, or later.

X

But she doesn't quite manage to.

In between all the extra-tiresome security checks in Davos and the draining economic cooperation talks with three dozen other leaders, the magnificence of the white peaks and the azure skies seems like a cursory benefit. It's mostly one conference room to another, and she decides that Davos is one of those places that are simply not worth the effort.

When the first leg of the conference is done and she has half a day to herself, the warning of a forecasted snowstorm is all that she needs to skip the skiing and the explanation that she'd originally planned.

She'll say it, after this, she promises herself. After he's settled in. She watches Athrun stamp the snow out of his boots and shake the tiny snowflakes from his hair, and his breath mists in little clouds.

His training mission in Berlin had been scheduled around the same time, and it was close enough. Mostly, it had seemed like a good idea when he suggested it at that time, when they were on the sofa playing slapjack. That had been something like four months ago.

She'd agreed too eagerly then, without thinking too far ahead. She had no way of knowing then.

It doesn't matter, though. She'll tell him today, but after they finish the meal. It's warm and comforting and there's no point letting good food go to waste, especially considering how vicious the snow is getting out there.

Maybe after some tea. The kettle on the hob is ready. It was so difficult for him to be here, even with her primary aide pulling out all the stops and making her shuttle turn back exclusively for Athrun. There's plenty of time to tell him this evening. It would be so ghastly to do it now.

She provides herself a dozen or so of such assurances.

But when they're enjoying a soak-in, the steam and hot water enveloping them in the log cubicle, they start playing about in the steam. They pretend that they're lost and fake echoes when they talk to each other, just being idiots like that. It's slightly incredible that Athrun would indulge in this kind of behaviour, but then it's not the first time that she's coaxed this side from him.

The view of the mountains from the open-air bath is too spectacular to ruin with her telling him right now. It's better to do it indoors, she thinks.

But then it's too intimate, with their knees bumping against each other in the hot tub. His fingers snake through the water and find her, wrapping around the strings of her bottom, twining the cloth and then twisting into her slit. It's hard to think or say anything else when his cheeks and nose bloom the same pink of his nipple when she drags her tongue and teeth against him. It just doesn't seem like an appropriate time to say what she'd prepared.

She'll do it after they towel down and they've dressed, she tells herself. There will be enough sobriety and time.

Later, lying on her back, lips swollen, her body sore in places that she hadn't even realised existed, she decides that she'll leave it for the morning. He draws another bath for them and seems completely fine with the adverse turn of weather too.

The next morning, when he's leaving for the shuttle, she stammers about breakfast and it being too cold, and he smiles at her, quite bewildered. She finds herself wrapping a scarf around his neck, even if his turtleneck and coat should keep him sufficiently warm, and she hugs him and wonders why she left it so late.

_I have to tell him now. I should._

The scarf is one of her favourites, a dark olive wool that's lightweight and cosy. It's not really the same shade as his eyes, but it matches and it looks nice on him. She kisses him, again and again. If he's surprised at her outpouring of affection, he doesn't question it for a minute.

"I'll return it when we're back in Orb." he tells her, touching the wool. Then he stoops to lifts his briefcase, straightening up. But he still doesn't open the door. His smile makes those tiny lines appear around his eyes.

_No, keep it. We won't meet each other after today. I have to let you go._

But she doesn't say it.

"Take care." They've reverted to their usual script.

"You too. Be careful."

"I know."

It's still dark out, but just to be sure, she takes her binoculars and looks around when he goes out, just to check that nobody's around. Her bodyguards had been instructed to stay further away from yesterday evening, and it seems they've followed orders.

When it doesn't look like it will snow heavily enough this morning, she walks over his footprints in the quiet snow up, blurring them out, as if her head of security and primary aide don't already know about this visit.

X

Slightly more than three months later, she sees Athrun at an adjacent table, dressed as formally as her and seated in the golden, softly-lit Peace Memorial Hall of Aprilius.

It's unplanned, and she was probably remiss for not asking her aides to obtain the guest list. Still, it's not as if Cagalli might have refused to attend this event, and she honestly hadn't expected him to attend these kinds of state dinners, let alone return to the Plants for it.

Really, she should ignore Athrun and whoever he's brought with him this evening.

They're at another table quite far away, and it would be easy to write them off with the swirl of all the people and world leaders that greet her. Likewise, the relevant tables and persons are closer to her side of the hall, and it would be quite straightforward to excuse herself from the formal dances later and return to her accommodation much earlier. That way, there's a much lower chance of running into him should they pass under the chandeliers and move past the velvet curtains.

Of course, she should continue to avoid contacting him. With enough time, anything will fade. Give it a month more, she reminds herself, and she won't even need to recite the speech that she had memorised and failed to deliver in Davos. She can't remember most of it, anyway.

And yet, she excuses herself and smilingly tells the others that nothing's the matter. She just wants a bit of fresh air.

She slips out to sit in the garden between the courses, feigning boredom with the socialising indoors. It's a foolish idea, really.

Her guards stand around, offering to bring her a drink, but it's cooling enough, and she's lost her appetite.

If Athrun doesn't come to her, she promises herself, the writing will be finally on the wall. She'll finish up the next course, make her rounds to greet the last few people on her agenda, and she'll leave. It's nice enough anyway, sitting here. The air is sensuous on her shoulders and the lights of the hall from this distance provide her a welcome change of perspective.

But then he approaches. It took only ten minutes.

X

When introduced later, Athrun's friend looks at Cagalli in awe. Elea Carou is doe-eyed with perfect hair and a lovely figure, but Cagalli thinks with some satisfaction that the lady seems somewhat overwhelmed. Cagalli's primary aide takes Athrun's seat and keeps Elea talking for the rest of the dinner, then whisks her off to meet a whole host of random other people. It's almost too easy.

Yzak's eyes narrow imperceptibly when he comes to greet her formally, but they're close enough and on good-enough terms for him not to say anything. It's likely that he and Dearka don't make too much of Athrun suddenly sitting next to her at a table full of politicians, rather than his previously-assigned table of military elites.

"Why didn't Kira Yamato attend?"

"I don't keep him in my pocket, unfortunately." Cagalli tells him, and she relishes the scowl that her teasing evokes from him. "I expect that he and Lacus are too busy with their baby girl."

"Hmph, lame." Yzak says, courtesy be fucked as always. At Cagalli's right, Eileen Canaver coughs into her napkin, and Cagalli can't tell if it's a laugh or something else.

"Ah, Your Grace." Dearka says, slinking up to the table and smiling at them. "We're mostly here for the food this evening, but I should really take the opportunity to say that you look stunning. Come on, Yzak, I see Lieutenant Imelia at the back."

She laughs sincerely, enjoying their faux-formality. "Thank you very much, Dearka."

Maybe it's not all glib tongue. In his own discreet, sly way, Athrun keeps looking at her and he barely moves from her for the rest of the night. It makes Cagalli worry that someone – his friends, maybe – might pick up too much.

Still, Yzak's and Dearka's presence prove useful enough when Athrun tells Elea that he really must catch up with Yzak, and will probably change his shuttle ticket. Of course, there's a chance that Elea might ask to be included, or ask Yzak if that's really true.

But watching from a distance, Cagalli sees Yzak arguing heatedly with some general from the Atlantic Federation, Dearka trying to moderate the discussion. Few strangers would dare to approach, because Yzak can always be counted on to be such a charmer.

X

In the next hours with Athrun, she abandons what she had intended to say before. In any event, her script had been scattered like those pebbles along the footpath when he walked up to her and asserted his presence in the glorious, lamp-strewn gardens.

In return, she gains something of an insight.

It bewilders her at first – that cool, cutting tone of his when he speaks of Shinn Asuka. But then she understands it suddenly, so quickly that it floods as clear as daylight.

Something about Shinn makes him uncomfortable, maybe more uncomfortable than her. Even if there's no way that he might have known about Shinn's return to Orb and what had happened, Shinn reminds Athrun of his past as much as Shinn reminds Cagalli of hers.

Maybe Athrun came back to Orb for her. Maybe he didn't. It doesn't matter anyway. Orb had been – is, and would always be – her all. Even now, with so much stabilised, he's a distraction. A beautiful distraction, but a distraction nonetheless.

There are so many ways to skin the cat. Lying in his arms, it occurs to her that night that there are so many ways that she can lose and hide herself so completely that Athrun won't bother taking the path into the woods and calling her name to find her.

X

It's what even someone like Dearka would call messy. Everything is dark and pounding, and Thierry's pale hair reflects every colour of the strobe lights when he fights his way through the crowd and gets back to them. One song thumps into another, a claustrophobic loop of meaningless rhythmic facilitating those in attendance to move and down their drinks in time to.

It's still strange even if it's not their first outing, seeing his colleagues out of their uniforms. There are plenty of them from the barracks, but there are plenty from outside those too.

Athrun's probably too old for this. But he's here, anyway.

He pays when Tarek calls for another round of shots. It's only right, because Tarek had insisted on buying the last two rounds.

He doesn't even bother with salt and lime. He barely looks at anything, feeling the searing burn of the liquid down his throat when he knocks it back. For a second, he cuts off the spinning colours of the ceiling when he closes his eyes. He feels a strange lightness, and he wonders how he went from being the guy who avoided speaking to anyone in class to being here, in this moment.

"Who knew you had it in you!" Tarek says, shocked and impressed. "Shit! You'll be hammered in no time."

Athrun tries to smile. He didn't mention to Thierry or Tarek that he's more likely to fall asleep than feel uninhibited, so maybe this excursion will yield a better result tonight. Dr. Morino will not hear of this.

The smoke from the ice drifts around. It makes the lights look more distorted, those staccato bursts of colour lifting lines across every surface. People seem to be too close, but then they aren't actually. The floors and walls seem to move, with the shift of each light sequence.

Jacqie and Yvet have already merged into some cluster of people.

"Call us if there's anything," Tarek says.

"Like hell we'd need to." Yvet tells, scowling as she turns her head back. "Don't get in my way of getting some tonight. Come on, Jacqie."

The elevated platforms and the decks of partygoers around them are completely filled tonight, and the lasers illuminate every face in the dark. The incessant blasting of beats, mist and beams makes it almost impossible for anyone to hear their own thoughts. At least the alcohol's taken some of the edge off – he doesn't feel so tense.

"Only took you three years to re-join the party, Zala! Oh wait, four! Last time was Yohei's promotion!"

He hears only his name clearly, but he guesses enough of what's being said. They clink their glasses and knock it down, Tarek laughing, face wet from the spill. Athrun hunches in his high seat, back turned to the chaos of limbs and movement that Thierry disappears back into.

Someone tugs at his shoulder and he turns. It's not Thierry, or anyone that he knows from the barracks.

He barely looks. He's not interested, so he shakes his head, not bothering to speak above the deafening beats. He turns back, and he reaches for another. There are only five more on the tray. Gin would have been better.

Maybe after this, he'll call a driver and go home. Or he might just go back to the flight grounds and sign in to use one of the sleep-pods. It's much nearer.

He takes another shot with Tarek, who laughs soundlessly and pumps his hands skywards. No doubt, Tarek is gearing up to join Thierry in the pit. Hopefully, they won't pull him along.

There's a tug again on his shoulder. There's that close smell of perfume again. It's floral, and it's not bad, but it's much too sweet. He wants to put his head down on the table, but he won't be allowed to.

He turns back to the person behind him, head feeling rather like a drone. He takes a closer look. White nail polish, a smooth hand on his arm. Glossy eyelids, and some kind of glitter on the cheeks. How many shots-?

It's Thierry this time, standing there with his arm around somebody else, and gesturing. When Athrun just stares at him, Thierry leans closer and shouts something into his ear. Athrun catches most of it.

Next to him, Tarek smiles broadly, thumping Athrun's back. He slides down the chair and stumbles off, either to the bathroom, or into the pit. Both are in that direction.

Another shot glass is in his hand. Thierry must have put it there. But Thierry's suddenly gone, with his new friend. When did -

The glass in his hand clinks against another. Tarek's seat has a new occupant.

Her eyes are light brown. Under the dim lights, they could be the same shade.

X

He wakes up, because something is digging into his side. It's an elbow. He's a bit cold. The sheets are nowhere near him, because they're being hogged.

He looks around him, at the small hotel room, at the trail of everything on the floor. He remembers everything, because he wasn't half as drunk as he should have been. He remembers the glitter, purple and blue and gold. He rubs his cheek, and sees some on the back of his hand.

A pale foot is next to his calf. He moves to the side and sits up, avoiding any further touch of the person sprawled and sleeping next to him. If this was some kind of subconscious revenge, it's more faceless than he expected.

He's the only one awake right now, and it's just as well. He gets out of the bed, not taking particular care to be quiet. Not that it matters when the room's other occupant is snoring, apparently. He starts picking up his items. His head feels a bit painful, which must be about right.

He'd paid at the front desk, he remembers that clearly. The automaton collecting the payment had handed him the keys. He remembers the song too; how it streamed under the spinning lights, echoing in the mist and from the walls and ceiling speakers. It was a remix of an old song that his university classmates had played sometimes. He had never liked the song.

Outside, the morning sun is searing its way into the room. The curtains are only partially drawn. There's nothing to see outside the curtains anyway, it's too high up, and the view comprises the back of another building.

The door automatically locks when he closes it, neat and without indication of the chaos behind it. The automaton at the front desk bows and waves him goodbye, and invites him to come stay again.

In the car that he hails back, he scrubs at his face with his hand, trying to clear his head of those memories.

But he remembers everything from those two weeks back. He can still visualise the cliffs of the island and the stairs that he'd climbed. Her golden hair was fanned out like a bird's plumage; Shinn's mouth moving to press on her flesh; the taste of another on her lips. He remembers how she had asked him to indulge her, and the way she smiled.

He wants to throw up. He doesn't allow himself to.

X

"Are we serious?" Elea asks, the sixth time that they meet without their other friends. "I don't want to sound presumptuous just because you invited me to the Plants that time." She kicks her shoes off, swinging her legs against the bench. "But I'd rather know than not."

He likes that about her, he thinks. She's so unflinchingly honest, even if it might look too direct.

"No, you aren't being presumptuous. Thanks for coming along to the dinner. Sorry, it probably was boring for you."

"No! Not at all! I mean, when you told me about it, I really wanted to visit the Plants. It was so sweet of you to invite me when I told you that I'd only been to the Plants once, and it was so interesting being at that dinner! I mean, I heard from Tarek a bit about your role in the wars, but I never knew..." Elea trails off. "Your friends – umm, Yzak. He's a bit intimidating."

"He's like that. Sorry. But he's actually a really good person."

"Of course. I figured that was why you wanted to spend more time with him…"

She must have taken much time and effort to dress that day, he thinks. When he'd waited for her in the hotel lobby, he saw that her hair was curled.

He feels again the guilt for leaving her at the table and calling her a cab without checking if she had reached safely, Somehow, that guilt doesn’t extend to what he’d told her to ensure that he could leave alone, or to be elsewhere for the later part of that night and the morning after. Anyway, they'd met at the shuttle grounds in the afternoon and returned to Orb with no hassle.

Elea studies him, then breaks into the silence that had settled. "You know I don't hang with guys like this if I'm not interested, right?"

He holds her gaze this time. "I know."

"I just don't want to get the wrong idea." Elea looks so pleading, he hates himself for putting her in that situation. "So... are we more than friends? Do you want us to see each other exclusively?"

He bites down the truth. With time, there might be a new truth, anyway. "You aren't getting the wrong idea. I do want to get to know you better, and I want to keep seeing you."

Her eyes brighten, and then she rests her head against his shoulder and he puts his arm around her.

"I'm so happy," she laughs. She threads her hand into his and looks up at him trustingly. "I would have been so disappointed if you just wanted to be friends."

X

When Athrun sees it, he tries not to think too much about it or of everything else that he'd read or heard before coming across this latest bit of news. The truth is that none of it was ever any of his business.

But it makes a compelling picture. She looks so comfortable and sure, standing next to Etienne Rutherford, her hand clasped in his. In their plum suits, they look as though they're leading Orb together and belong together. Of course someone like that could really help her and wouldn't get in her way.

It's nothing like before. She'd once needed another noble house to wield any authority and suffered being led around, but now Cagalli is standing there with another emir, on her own terms. Athrun should be so proud of her.

Or actually, he shouldn't care at all. She’s not supposed to mean anything to him in that way. Nor does Cagalli owe him any explanation or her time. It would be everything that she'd warned him of that morning in Kira's and Lacus' guest room.

If he could be allowed to feel anything, he should be happy for her. He reads it again, and even with the least charitable interpretation of the printed words, he can't find anything really malicious in the reporting or footage. Part of the writing is a bit speculative, but it's only a mention of a potential moderating effect that the Rutherford house might have on Cagalli Yula Atha's views. It's not libel when it’s a fact that the Orb princess has taken partial residence with the Rutherford emir.

Most of it is a factual summary of the tabled bills on immigration restrictions that are now moving to the second reading. There’s some speculation on how quickly it will be passed. There's nothing about a parent who founded the military of the Plants, or who managed to rise high enough to control both the militia and the electorate so that he could get hold of some death ray and aim it at the Earth territories. There’s no mention of a former Zaft member who defected more than once and couldn't pick his loyalties. Of course there isn’t, because Athrun's not the one standing next to her and holding her hand.

He doesn't deliberately read or look into anything about Etienne Rutherford. Doing so would only make himself feel worse about what he is and what he's not. It doesn't even matter anyway. He should be grateful for any time or memory – when Cagalli had wound herself around him and looked at him with those golden eyes, when they had spoken of almost anything; their families, their friends, colleagues, and work; they had tumbled and held each other in bed and laughed and joked. They'd cooked for each other. He had been prepared to lose his life, if only to keep her and Orb safe.

She isn't someone that he can publicly claim to know or stand beside. Maybe she wants him from time to time, but she's never needed him. He was once Alex Dino, and now he's Athrun Zala.

X

Elea has so much in common with him in terms of the life that he has now. He can go anywhere with her, and they visit a game arcade on one Saturday. Her normality is so stark, and he's thrown off by the lack of retina-scans when she invites him to her place and they kiss in her kitchen.

She tells him that she really likes him, and she feels such an affinity with him. He tells her that he likes her too.

She doesn't want to talk about politics, or governance. She knows enough about those, but she prefers talking about how their day went. She likes painting her nails, and goes wakeboarding on the weekends. Over the weekends of the months that go by, he learns how to wakeboard because she teaches him. She can talk about all the latest movies, and they watch a few over consecutive weekends.

She accepts that his work hours can be quite difficult and that he's increasingly posted overseas with the need to test in differing conditions, and she tells him that she doesn't mind at all. Tarek is delighted at how he’s thrown them together.

X

His colleagues at work keep asking for the latest developments after they find out that Athrun spends alternate weeks at Elea's apartment. But there's nothing much to say, as far as Athrun's concerned.

He's too ambivalent to decline when Elea sets up meetings with her friends, siblings, and her mother. Elea had told him that her father was a piece of work, so she didn't miss him when he went to who-knows-where, and he tells her that he gets it. He does, in a way.

Later, when she presses him to talk about his father, he tells her what she already knows. She hadn't been there when his father's body had floated past, those bubbles of blood rising into the anti-gravity. There are some things that he'll never speak of to anyone else.

When she asks to meet his friends, he arranges some outings with his colleagues from work. It satisfies her sufficiently when he explains that his left his life in the Plants behind, and mostly only goes there for work.

One night, when Elea tells him that she loves him, he tells her that he loves her too. It's not because he does, but because he knows that he can. With time, he might just.

He does appreciate many things about her. He does like her, and she's attractive. It hadn't felt artificial when he accepted her first and subsequent invitations for him to stay over at her apartment.

Whenever they have breakfast together, he thinks that she represents a future that he could simply hold open his hands to accept.

Elea reminds him of Meyrin, a lot. They both think too much of him.

But Elea's been saying that she'll need to break it off if he doesn't see a long-term commitment, because her year in Orb is coming up. Even if her employer is quite eager her to stay on in Orb, she wants to move back to Coppernicus.

She’s asking him to move from Orb, and start a new life in Coppernicus. She thinks that he can find work as a commercial pilot, and she wants to have a family. She’s a Natural, even if Athrun’s a Coordinator, so there’s a good chance. She really wants kids, and she has all the names prepared.

It’s not such a stretch. When he thinks about it, it seems as though she can keep him stable like this and he can give her what she wants. It’s easy enough to head to town that weekend and choose a ring that Tarek assures she'll like.

When Athrun proposes in her kitchen, she bursts into tears and hugs him like she's never wanted anything more.

It really isn't too difficult when it's been nearly six months since he received any coded message, designed to delete without leaving any trace.

X

But all it takes is one of those messages. 

He had thought about this more than he should have, or cared to admit. It would have been simple enough for her to keep tabs on him, or to find out if he was seeing anyone, or that he had moved in with another person. He had almost wanted her to know about it. He had hoped, rather unrealistically, that she would see him living with another person and without her.

His every visualisation pales in comparison with the searing reality of her, and he traces her face in his hands and opens his throat, parched for her desperate kisses. He had been without her company for too long, and he’d bitten back her name on some nights. It’s not his fault, he thinks, that he loves her. It’s not his fault that he wants her to love him.

They speak their hidden messages with their bodies, conceding wordlessly to each other, as wilfully blind and avoidant of their faults as the day when they'd watched Kira crawl about, blindfolded, in the garden.

With that one coded message that she sent and he answered, he’s thrown everything else away. It's pathetic, and maybe he should hate her for getting in the way, or himself for allowing her to lead him away from reaching out and seizing what he’d set his mind to. Those games were better off played with a child in Kira’s garden.

It had gone on for too long, and he can’t remember if there was ever a point to winning or losing. The fact of the matter is that he had chosen to go to her that night in the memorial hall’s gardens, and he decided to answer her message. He’d decided to be here. 

She doesn’t apologise, but he doesn’t expect her to. He won’t either. It doesn’t mean he’s above twisting the knife deeper into the wound.

"Why now?" he asks. "After so long?"

"I wanted you." she says.

"Only now?"

"As soon as you left."

And it's so simple like that, to abandon the weapon that he’d wielded and to try and salve the same wound that he inflicted on her.

Their days are long but their lives are so short, he thinks. It's so hard to hate when he looks at her and knows every bit of her suffering. It's as much his own as it resides in her, and when he feels her hands tremble against him when he kisses her, he knows that she must have hurt herself to stay away, and hurt herself again to ask for him.

“You should have asked for me sooner.” he says, quite resigned. 

But she’s still a child with her petulant doubt and refusal to admit any defeat. "Would you have come to me? After everything?"

He thinks he knows what she's referring to. But there's no need to speak of it when he'll never allow it again.

“I won’t go.” Athrun says. “You called me to you, so I won’t go.”

She presses up against him like nothing has ever changed, and he kisses her in silent absolution. Shinn was right, and Athrun had damned him for it.

It was an exercise in futility for him to harbour any hope of leaving her behind. He should have already known that, because holding her in his arms and having her love him in all the ways that she could always felt like home.

X

When Elea returns him the ring and his box of things, her eyes are swollen. Because she doesn’t know everything, she musters a brave smile at him, and wishes him all the best.

"I won't leave Orb." he'd told her. "I've thought about it again, and I think it's better that I don't go with you to Coppernicus. We should go our separate ways."

It's clear that they won't be in contact anymore, even if the exchange of their personal items is amiable enough and they hug for the final time. Tarek had been worried, but they'd assured him that their friendship was still intact. Of course, they'd had to say that to Tarek.

It's better like this, Athrun thinks. She'll never know the full truth of why he couldn't leave Orb, but there’s no need, because it never really concerned her in the first place.

X

When Athrun insists, Lacus accepts the platinum bracelet that he gifts his god-daughter. It’s true that Silvia's too young to wear it, but maybe it will be of use or value to her one day. When she’s old enough and if she ever asks about how he chose it, Athrun will find something to say then.

"It's beautiful." Lacus tells him, putting the bracelet back and shutting the box. She laughs her silvery laugh and pours him more tea, but skilfully moves things out of the danger zone where Silvia's hands are close enough to grab at everything. "It's really such a pity that you can't stay longer in Aprilius, Athrun. We’re making a weekend trip to December City. You could have seen Leon’s school there, you know.”

“I’ll be sure to see it the next time that I’m back in the Plants.” Athrun assures.

“Sure." Kira says. “It’s just a pity that you came all the way to give this to Silvia and not stay a bit longer.”

"It was on the way. I needed to clear some personal business on my parents’ bequeathment, so I thought I should stop by." Athrun says. He’ll hold in abeyance the details of his visit to the lawyers and the sale of the apartment in Aprilius, but maybe he’ll take to his grave the story of Silvia’s bracelet and the ring that preceded it.

Lacus looks concerned, but thankfully, the child starts stretching out her little hands to grab at the biscuit plate. Distracted, Lacus swiftly rises to take the little girl from Kira. She holds her daughter high away from the tea table, and Athrun tells them that he should be making a move too.

"Say hello to Cagalli for us." Lacus tells Athrun. "When you see her back in Orb."

"Sure.” Athrun pauses. He adds, “If she happens to stop by Onogoro, or the military headquarters."

"Of course." Kira says.

X

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know.


End file.
